


Yichud

by Lily_Padd_23



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Boys In Love, Cuties, Fluff, Gets a little steamy in here, Humor, M/M, Post-Series, Wedding Day, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 11:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17559749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Padd_23/pseuds/Lily_Padd_23
Summary: Following the ceremony, Jewish tradition dictates that couples spend approximately 18 minutes in yichud (or seclusion).





	Yichud

Yichud  
By Lily Padd

 

_Following the ceremony, Jewish tradition dictates that couples spend approximately 18 minutes in yichud (or seclusion)._

 

 _One_  
           “Okay, okay! Look, we’re going!” Josh cries as Toby pushes him and Sam into the little powder room in the back of the courthouse.  
           “You’re a terrible Jew!” Toby replies, slamming the door.  
           “What are we supposed to do in here for eighteen minutes?” Josh calls back, an amused smirk on his face.  
           “Stop talking now, Josh!” Toby barks through the door at him, “Eighteen minutes of private reflection and quiet contemplation on your… y’know, on your commitment!”  
Josh gestures vaguely in Sam’s direction sputtering, “Toby, you can’t lock my in a room with _this_ and not expect me to…”  
           “Eighteen minutes, Josh!”

 _Two_  
Josh turns on the balls of his feet, slightly gobsmacked, to face Sam, who has crossed to lean against the vanity on the opposite side of the tiny, muted pink space.  Josh opens his mouth to apologize, eyes closed, shaking his head in disbelief.  When he opens his eyes, Sam is just beaming at him.  
           “I’m sorry for this, and for Toby being…”  
           “What?” Sam shrugs, “I think it’s nice!”  
           “Nice?” Josh chuckles, “That’s not much of a Sam Seaborn word.”

 _Three_  
           “I think it’s poignant?” Sam goes on, drawn-out, cozy silences falling between each word as he thinks.  “Heartwarming.”   As he speaks and contemplates, he moves around the vanity, picking up random items— a petal of potpourri, a box of tissues— and placing them back down, fidgeting absently.  “Touching.  Lovely.  Moving . Profound.”  And then he pauses for a long time, turning to look deep into Josh’s eyes from across the room, “Beautiful.”  
           “Beautiful.”  Josh echoes, not breaking eye contact, _“Beautiful.”_

 _Four_  
           “Beautiful.”  Sam repeats in a whisper.  
They stand, silently, just indulging in each other’s eyes.  The only sound in the room is the old-fashion, tinny ticks of the wall clock and their long, deep breaths.

 _Five_  
After a while, Sam takes a small step towards Josh, blue eyes twinkling.  
           “What cha thinking about?” Josh asks.  
           “What are _you_ thinking about?” Sam turns the question back.  
           “I’m quietly contemplating our commitment,” the corners of Josh’s mouth turn up as he takes a swaggering step towards Sam.  “What are you thinking about?”  
           “I’m quietly contemplating our commitment, too,” Sam says, dimples threatening to sneak onto the little patches of skin just above his sharp cheekbones.  
           “Yeah?” Josh laughs a bit.  
           “Yeah.”  
           “And what revelations has your contemplation yielded?”

 _Six_  
Sam places his hands on Josh’s lapels, running his fingers over the smooth silk.  Giving in to the gentle tug, Josh lets himself be pulled closer, his arms sliding around Sam’s waist.  
           “No startling revelations,” Sam answers in a hushed tone.  
           “No?” Josh teases, “No big breakthroughs?”  
           “No earth-shattering epiphanies,” Sam smiles, “What about you?”  
           “No, I’ve had some… some major eureka moments, Sam,” Josh says, trying to sound serious, “I think I’ve come up with the plot for my Great American Novel.”  
           “Oh yeah?”  
           “Yeah,” Josh insists, “Oh, yeah.”  
           “Well, I’m happy for you.”

 _Seven_  
Josh’s hands are slipping from Sam’s hips and down into his back pockets.  A cheeky smile crosses Sam’s face as Josh pushes their bodies closer.  Sam leans his chin on Josh’s shoulder and blows tiny whispers in Josh’s ear, “You’re not taking this very seriously.”  
           “No… no… Sam, you can’t do that to me,” Josh shudders, “That does things.”  
           “It does things?” Sam makes his breath even lower, knowing exactly what it does. 

 _Eight_  
Sam is breathing in Josh’s ear.  Josh closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, their hearts beating in time together.  
           “Sam…” he says, “You’re distracting me from my private reflections.”  
Sam pulls back to look at Josh, “I’m reflecting!” he says, “Are you reflecting?”  
           “I’m reflecting!” Josh replies.

 _Nine_  
They press their foreheads together, a warmth radiating between them.  Sam removes his hands from Josh’s lapels and pulls Josh’s hands into his.  They close their eyes, fingers laced, foreheads touching, heartbeats steadying.  
           “I’m reflecting,” Josh says again after a long, sublime silence.  
           “Josh?” Sam murmurs.  
           “Yeah?” Josh opens an eye to peek at Sam.  
           “We’re married,” Sam slowly opens his eyes and repeats, “We’re _married_ , Josh.”  
           “We’re married, Sam.”  
           “We’re married.” 

 _Ten_  
Josh catches Sam’s lips in his.  
They kiss.

 _Eleven_  
They kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss.

 _Twelve_  
Parting his lips, Sam glides his tongue into Josh’s mouth. Josh lights his tongue on Sam’s, replacing his grip around Sam’s ass, a moan escaping from the back of his throat.  
Sam’s hands are on Josh’s face, in his curly silver hair, pushing his weight against him.  Josh’s hands desperately fumble at Sam’s bow tie and buttons, taking a step back as Sam presses into him.

 _Thirteen_  
Josh finally tumbles backwards onto the loveseat, Sam crashing onto his chest.  They burst into a fit of squeaky, winded, laughter, Josh pushing his fingertips against Sam’s face in hurried motions to remind him to be quiet.  They swallow each other’s giggles with more kisses and Sam’s hands are frantically alternating between Josh’s bowtie and his belt buckle. 

 _Fourteen_  
Opening Sam’s bowtie and top three buttons, Josh begins feverishly trailing kisses down Sam’s neck, stopping behind his left ear, at his Adam’s apple, making his way to his sternum.  Sam’s head lifts involuntarily, his eyes closed with dreamy delight, his bow tie dropping to the floor.

 _Fifteen_  
In a flurry of kisses that miss their target, Sam undoes Josh’s fly and reaches his hand between their stomachs, down the front of his pants, gripping him through his shorts, his other hand firmly on the small of Josh’s back.  Josh has to bite his lip to keep from crying out, and then sinks his teeth further into Sam’s skin.

 _Sixteen_  
Josh begins rocking his hips back and forth into Sam, who matches the motion, nuzzling his neck against Josh to find his lips with his again.  They smile into each other’s kisses, Josh pausing for just a second to breathe out a barely compensable, “I should marry you more often…” before he’s jolted to silence by Sam adjusting his hands to reach under his boxer briefs.  Josh lets out a stifled gasp into Sam’s mouth, his eyebrows contorting as Sam begins accelerating the pace of his hand around Josh.

 _Seventeen_  
Josh’s searching hands finally settle on Sam’s back, bracing himself with Sam’s tux, the fabric wadded tightly in his fists, causing a sleeve to spill over Sam’s shoulder.  They’re pumping into each other in a quickened rhythm now, soft noises releasing from between their sloppy kisses, Josh panting as Sam continues his handiwork beneath his belt.  Just as the lump in Josh’s throat tells him he’s approaching the point of no return, the knock comes at the door before he can.

 _Eighteen_  
           “Alright, you two, my watch says eighteen minutes!” Toby’s voice rings in their ears as he opens the door, Donna close behind him. Upon entering, Toby stops short, taking in the scene.  His eyes fall first on Sam who has sprung to his feet, buttons splayed open, his jacket barely on, bowtie on the ground, bruises softly appearing across collarbone like a Polaroid picture.  Then to Josh, who is sitting up on the love seat, hair sticking in even more directions than usual, bowtie draped at his neck, shaky hands zipping up his fly.  For a second, Toby is dumbfounded, and Donna turns away to hide her fit of laughter. Sam opens his lips— swollen and red from kisses— to say something, but Toby just lifts his hand indignantly.  
           “Josh…” he says, not blinking, “You are a terrible, _terrible_ Jew.”

**Author's Note:**

> These sweethearts don't belong to me, but I sure do love them.
> 
> Feedback makes me do a happy dance (that slightly resembles Sam dancing to The Jackal).
> 
> I have a lot of pieces floating in the air right now, so tell me what else you want to see these two get up to either these days. Or before/during the series. Just can't stop writing these dorks.


End file.
